Disclaimer: Not mine
For the Best
Harry sat at the leaving feast with Ron and Hermione as usual. Though this was normally a joyous time, the recent death of Albus Dumbledore had cast a pall over the celebrations.
Glancing at the head table, Harry saw Professor McGonnagal in the middle chair while her old one sat vacant. She looked as controlled as ever, but Harry doubted the sincerity of her composure. She stood, quickly told everyone to begin the feast and sat down. The food appeared and dinner began.
The house elves had done an excellent job as expected, but somehow it just didn't taste the same. Harry, Ron, and Hermione ate quietly; each seemingly lost in their own thoughts. They had a plan now, a plan to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all.
Ron was having an internal battle over how to explain things to his mother. She would never willingly let him go to search for pieces of an evil wizard's soul. He was wondering if he should lie, though this did not seem feasible. They would have to tell McGonnagal at the very least, as she was probably in charge of the order now. "No," he thought," best to be honest." His mother was always overprotective of her children, and it took grand displays of courage to stand up to her. If the only way to demonstrate that he was now an of age wizard and a man was to tell her his intentions without preamble, so be it. He was going to be with Harry and no one was going to stop him.
Hermione's thoughts were also on her parents. Over the years, she had not been completely honest with them. After the first year, she was so concerned that her parents would not allow her to return to the wizarding world that she left out certain details of her life. Mr. and Mrs. Granger knew about Harry's past. He was one of their daughter's best friends, so they had only naturally been curious. It was not until the end of the trio's fourth year that questions had arose.
When the Grangers picked Hermione up at King's Cross, they overheard parents talking about a student's death. Hermione brushed it off as an accident of the tournament. She showed her parents history books pertaining to the dangerous competition, and informed them that the Ministry was aware of the mistake in restarting it. They seemed to believe her explanation, and the matter was forgotten.
Now, Hermione wondered if her deceit had possibly been a mistake. Her world was in the middle of a war; she was a main participate in a war revolving around her best friend, and her parents knew nothing about it. "Yes," she decided, "it was past time to explain some things to her parents."
Harry was thinking about the last six years of his life. He remembered sitting in the common room as a first year, opening his first real Christmas presents. Then, he had a vague idea that Voldemort was up to something, but believed the situation could be handled. He knew nothing of basilisks, Azkaban, or the fact that a Hufflepuff would die in three years. He knew nothing of his destiny. Sixteen year old Harry realized now that it was for the best.
His thoughts turned to his second year. He remembered being in the common room once again; this time trying to figure out Tom Riddle's diary. He knew that evil things were happening around the school, but he was not afraid. After all, he had defied Voldemort at the end of last year. If he could face that, he could face this. He knew nothing of an innocent man in Azkaban. The horrors that would raise would still be too much. He knew not that a fellow student had only two years left to live, death eaters, or his future. Sixteen year old Harry realized that it was probably for the best.
He remembered being at the lake with Ron and Hermione the day after Sirius' escape. His innocent godfather was on the run from the Ministry after facing twelve years of misery. That was horrible, but Sirius was safe; Dumbledore was going to help him elude the aurors. Everything would be fine. Harry knew nothing of Cedric's impending death, real prophecies, or the fact that his mentor's days were also numbered. Sixteen year old Harry realized that is was most likely for the best.
He remembered being in the hospital wing right after Cedric's parents left him. He was traumatized by all that he had seen and done. Sirius left again the previous night, this time to alert people as to what was going on. Harry wondered if he could ever recover from the year's events. However, he did not know that his godfather had begun his last year of life. He knew nothing of the prophecy, or the fact that the greatest wizard of the age would fall in two years. Possession, occlumancy, and blood quills were unknown to him. Sixteen year old Harry realized that perhaps it was for the best.
He remembered his fifth year and being at the lake crying bitter tears for his deceased godfather. Later, he would also understand that he was crying for everything. This was the first he had shed tears of hurt, disappointment, and pain. The prophecy was at the front of his mind, and that was numbing. Still, he knew not that Dumbledore would die in a year. He knew not what the prophecy's wording might actually mean, and he did not know the fate of the wizarding world. Sixteen year old Harry realized that it may be for the best.
Harry's thoughts returned to the present. He and his friends had a plan. They were going to destroy the horcruxes and kill Voldemort. Harry knew that the wording of the prophecy was important. He did not know if he was getting carried away with ideas, or if what he thought he knew was true. He did not know if he was the final horcrux or not. He did not know if by destroying Voldemort, he would destroy himself. He did not know if he was destined to die soon, too. He also realized that this was for the best.
A/N: This is probably the only story where I will ever acknowledge Dumbledore's death. So, let me know what you think. Please review:)